


I Call Shotgun

by knifechild



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Episode 4 spoilers, F/M, Flashbacks, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush, Vicky Icky's first time gettin high aha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifechild/pseuds/knifechild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drugs is the best way to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Call Shotgun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yahoberries](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Yahoberries), [fullycharged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullycharged/gifts).



> Takes place pre-game, as usual. I don't know. I'm trash for one-sided Nathan/Rachel. Enjoy!!!

The heavy infiltration of smoke made him feel relaxed, loosening tense muscles that were previously filled with stress. He took another long drag, feeling lightweight as ever. Nathan watched the light grey puffy clouds of smoke escape from dry lips with an exhale, drifting off to the dark sky. He lifted his head up, heavy gaze onlooking the stars. They never shined bright.

Not as bright as her.

Nathan silently berated himself at the reminder of the late Rachel Amber. Everyone else at Blackwell had been so fucking stupid - especially whoever placed those posters up. Everyone had thought she was missing, or that she ran away for a better life. To a better town, one that could offer her greater than what this shithole had.

Nathan knew though. He knew better than that. Rachel Amber was _dead_ , and it’s all his fault.

He forces himself to listen to the booming sounds of the current Vortex party, to distract himself with the noises that the party animals of Blackwell consisted of. It was always loud, cramped but everyone knew that he threw the best damn parties around. He was expected there, as usual, but here he is; sulking, thinking of horrible and horrifying past memories.

Feeling the contents of his stomach rise to his throat at the flashes in his mind, he forced himself to take another drag of his cigar. This time it’s short and quick, jerking it away from his lips so swiftly it slips from his fingers, dropping to the ground. Nathan let out a quiet string of curses under his breath, stomping on the cigar softly with the bottom of his shoe.

His shoulder collided with the wall next to him roughly, but he didn’t mind the pain. He slumped, leaning all his weight against the cool brick material. He wasn’t sure when he had let the moment of his eyes slipping close to happen, but it did. His mind tuned out, rummaging through messy thought tangents for a light hearted memory. It was rare for Nathan to keep any of those around; it was the company he kept around him. _Unfortunately._

Nathan’s mind went blank, and the adrenaline found in fast paced, loud thumping music willed its way out of his range of hearing.  His heart rushed harshly against his chest, almost painful.

Reminiscing is a good way of dealing with trauma, right?

* * *

 

Rachel’s lips quivered from the cold air in a dark blue’s night. The joint hung between two pale digits, shaking slightly. Her gaze was distant, staring off to the blank space of tonight. She brought it to her lips, inhaling quickly. Smoke filled her lungs and she swayed slightly, a chuckle escaping from her.

“Well, would you look who it is.”

The voice was murky, muddy in her ears. She’s swaying slightly, heels failing her and almost toppling over. A pair of strong, warm hands shot out and caught her, and they both broke into a fit of giggles and laughs. At least, Rachel thought that person was laughing along with her.

She slips out of her black heels, and she’s laid against the patch of grass near the lamppost. The grass tickled against her foot, the wet dew sticking to her toes. The mysterious figure laid next to her with a sigh, and she smiled at the quick blur of red that shifted besides her.

“Prescott.” She calls him out, and he hums a tune as an answer. Even when she’s high, Rachel could sense the pulsing anger rolling off his presence. Anyone and everyone could. She sighs, turning so she’s laying on her side. Soft lips inhaled the joint once more, and Rachel blew the smoke over to Nathan’s direction when she realized he was avoiding her gaze. Nathan coughed, his hand flailing at the toxic cloud to drift elsewhere.

“Rachel - ugh, what the fuck?” He sounds even angrier, and she bites her lip. _Fuck. Way to go, Rachel. You made him even more pissed._ Nathan’s body was twitching slightly, his limbs spasming gently as he situated himself to get comfortable. A groan, and he rubs at his temple, wanting to brush away a mere headache.

“So,” She starts, laying on her back once more. “You seem pissed.”

With a snort, Nathan said, “No shit, Amber.”

Rachel rolled her eyes at the bitter use of her surname. _Why is he so difficult?_ “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’d rather not,” He muttered, looking away from her now. “You’re high.”

“Then get high with me,” She offered. Her grin etched on her lips, genuine. Nathan scoffed, seeing the amused glint in her eyes. _Of course. Get high, bury yourself in an abundance of prescriptions and an unidentifiable amount of liquor. Drown yourself in a stupor, just to forget. But never forgive, is it? He needed help, but–_

“No-one gives a shit.” He blurted it out so suddenly, Rachel has to lean in a bit closer just to make sure she heard correctly.

“Wha…” She doesn’t finish because he’s sitting up too fast, and she is too. Her whole world comes tumbling down, and she crashes next to him. A hearty laugh vibrates in her throat, while Nathan just holds her in his arms, almost like she’s everything to him. He laughs along with her, albeit a lot more quiet than she is.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” She mumbles out breathlessly, and he can’t tell why the whole situation is so hilarious for both of them. He shakes his head, the odd mix of jasmine scented perfume and cannabis filling his senses. With anyone else, he would have been repulsed.

But Rachel made it seem perfect.

“Say’s the one who’s stoned to hell right now.” He chuckled,  but gasped when he felt a cold palm shove itself into his jacket pocket. A tinge of panic lit in his chest, and he attempted to push away by her shoulders, but sweaty hands slip and froze when he felt a finger tracing the heavy weight of a gun. Fuck.

“Oh? Is this a gun…” She mused teasingly. God, she is so fucking stoned. “...Or are you just happy to see me?” Rachel laughed at her own attempt to lighten the situation. She wasn't sure if it was working or not, but she could only hope.

Because, _frankly_ , she’s scared to death.

At the booming voice of his hushed laughter, Rachel felt relaxed again. Played your cards right, Amber – for now, that is. “You’re so lame, Rach.” Nathan called her out amusingly. His previously racing heart calming. He decided to play along, just for now. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hanging out with those lame skater boys with skateboards shoved up their _asses_ again.” His lips quirked into a cocky grin. _Pushing the line was always his forte._

At the mention of ‘skater boys’, Rachel mocked hurt, lightly smacking his arm – and almost missing. “Hey! Trevor and Justin are sick as hell – They could ollie over your flat ass any day.” Rachel commented, threading a hand through his soft locks, messing it up. Nathan scoffed, curling slightly into the touch. He hopes she won’t notice.

“What the fuck ever,” Shrugging his shoulders, red jacket almost coming off loose. “They could beat me up and I could get their heads sued in a heartbeat.”

“Mhmm. Just keep telling yourself that, Prescott.”

They’re sat in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. She releases her hold on him, and his heart sinks slightly into his stomach. Warmth evaded him around every corner, it seemed.

Nathan watched with almost _hungry_ eyes as she took in another inhale of smoke, puffs of grey forming from her lips. He had been itching for a high lately, and he really fucking needs it. _Badly_. His lungs were craving for a hit, insides raw and emotions even rawer without a smoke. It was one of many ways to hide the shadows clawing from his being, a way to keep the monsters at bay.

Empty bottles once filled with prescription pills could only do you so much.

“Why are you so clean tonight?”

He blinks away from the rolled marijuana hanging between her fingers, and stares up at her face. She looks distant, and her voice is so uncharacteristically small it makes him feel like he stepped out of line. The intentions of her words are slightly vague, and he almost considered taking a whiff of his armpit when he remembers that, _no, dumbass. She doesn’t mean it that way – you’ve already showered for the night._

“Oh.” The sudden realization hits him like an oncoming truck, and he fixes his gaze to the grass beneath his feet. “Ran out.”

Rachel began to laugh. “So soon?” Another smoke. “Where did all the ‘party favors’ go? Thought you were loaded with that stuff, Nate.”

At the affectionate nickname calling, he curls up in himself, shrugging. He brought a hand up to fix a loose sleeve. “Shitty week, Rach.”

Rachel nods, a bright idea then looming in her mind. “Hold up,” She forced herself up on her feet, brushing off imaginary dust from her jeans. Nathan looked at her, curiosity swimming deep in his blue eyes. Slowly, yet all at once, she roughly shoved him down by the shoulders, and his back harshly met the grass once more. There’s an empty feeling in his pocket, and he panics.

His gun is knocked to the side, safety away from his reach. But he’s distracted once more, this time a heavy weight laying on his pelvis. “ _What the fuck?!_ ” He almost shouts, but he’s shushed with her dainty fingertip laying on his lips. She leans down low, dangerously low.

“Hold still hard up,” She flickers her last joint away, putting it out before lighting another one. “gimme a second.” She places the marijuana between her lips, inhaling the heavy smoke. The smell is close to him, a bit sickening, but he gets used to it. He realizes the intent of her actions, and Nathan sucks in a breath.

For a quick second, her lips are pressed against his, tight yet soft. He feels lightheaded, dizzy. Nathan felt Rachel blowing the smoke into his lungs, and he’s alive again. His senses are burning, and the world is spinning, prompting him to shut his eyes. Technically, this isn’t a kiss, right?

Rachel pulls away, but it’s almost like she’s reluctant. _Or, better yet, that’s the high telling him_.  A lazy grin spreads on his lips, and she laughs. _He’s nearly as good as Chloe._ Instantly, the weight is lifted off him and she rolls by his side, arm slung across his stomach. _This is what best buds do, right?_ Nathan’s heart is warm, butterflies fluttering in his belly. Tossing the joint aside as well, Rachel’s high is short lived, sense of reality crashing through imaginary shields. _How perfect._ She hears a chuckle, and she’s quick to be curious.

“What?”

"Rachel..." He breathes in, a small dramatic pause. "I think I love you."

A frown.  _Disappointment? No, no no no no no-_ , "You're high, Prescott. Get your ass back down to earth."

Nathan shakes his head, humming.  He's not joking, and then there's painful silence. 

“I call shotgun.”

Rachel snorts, and calls him a dork for such a lame thing to say.

* * *

 “I’m fine.”

“Nate, you were so zoned out.”

“I was high.”

“You were smoking a cigar!”

A pissed of Victoria Chase is never a good Victoria Chase. Nathan concluded that long ago.

What he couldn’t understand is why she’s getting so worked up over the fact he was late by, what? 20 minutes?

“It’s called being fashionably late, Vic. You should take notes sometime.”  He grins. Playful as always. Nathan bumps shoulders with her almost apologetically. He really knew how to play it dangerous, didn’t he?

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I could help.”

At the mention of ‘help’, Victoria flashed him a smirk, taking a sip from her cocktail. “You are such a pig.”

Nathan laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist as he lead her outside. “Sue me.” Oh, how ironic was that?

The music faded, and everything was calm. For a bit.

“Shitty day?” Victoria muses, watching as he pulled a joint out from his pocket..

“Tell me about it.” He muttered under his breath bitterly, the joint placed between his cracked lips as he lit it. “Wanna get high?”

“Sure.” A pause. Hesitation, for once. “Yeah, okay.” _First time for everything, right?_

Nathan grinned, taking a deep inhale before he grabbed her wrist and jerked her forward. A yelp, but quickly silenced by dry lips. She feels the smoke drifting in her mouth, filling her lungs heavily. A strong, almost overwhelming sensation took over her before she pulled away, throat burning as she coughed violently. “Ugh, _What the hell?!_ ”

Nathan, however, was bent over, leaning his hands on his knees as he laughed. _What an asshole_. “Fuck! That was just too priceless, Vic.” He was breathless, coughing slightly. “Sorry - sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He looks up, smiling a bit. Victoria suddenly realizes that she is too. “Wanna try again?”

“No,” She’s quick to decline, but curiosity always wins over the cat. “but, okay.”

Nathan laughs again, another try. She’s so easy. So perfect.

She leans in, smoke is easier to swallow this time. Like a tiny pill. Her mind is cloudy, and she pulls away abruptly.

“Woah.”

“I know, right?” He’s a bit giddy, taking a long drag. Victoria tumbles against him, and suddenly his heart is throbbing painfully in his chest.

It takes a moment, but when they’re back at it on the dancefloor, hips lazily grind against each other, people are wondering why Victoria is so tipsy.

“Dude,” Hayden starts, taking a seat next to him. “Did you call shotgun on Victoria Chase?”

Nathan sends him a wide smile, downing a bottle of beer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading, please leave kudos, and comment! even if you didn't enjoy! thank you!!


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